


When the World Won't

by BrainlessGenius



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Body Dysmorphia, Body Positivity, Deceit | Janus Sanders is a good husband, Fluff and Angst, Husbands, Implied/Referenced Enbyphobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insecure Logic | Logan Sanders, Loceit - Freeform, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Nonbinary Logic | Logan Sanders, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Prompt Fill, Rated Teen for the slight sexual suggestiveness in the middle somewhere, Tumblr Prompt, body negativity, the "other" tag is for a nonbinary x male relationship since Ao3 doesn't have that so--
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrainlessGenius/pseuds/BrainlessGenius
Summary: Sometimes Logan just can't help but give in to the unpleasant voices in their head. They mock them, pointing out every thing about themself they hated as they stand in front of the mirror. Logan is too aware of what the world thinks of them, but Janus is always there to tell them otherwise.A fill for the prompt request "Fat, nonbinary Logan; hurt/comfort."
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	When the World Won't

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning/s:** body negativity, body dysmorphia (omg pls tell me if I’m wrong), fatphobia, self-hate, mentions of implied homophobia/enbyphobia, insecurities, slight sexual suggestiveness at one point but it’s just one quick instance (hence the rating). Please don’t hesitate to inform me if I forgot something or did something wrong.

The mirror in Janus and Logan’s room has borne witness to a lot of things.

It was there to see them arrange their bedroom on the day they moved in together. It saw their every pillow fight and their every  _ actual  _ fight. Every day it witnessed Janus putting concealer over the nasty scar going over his eye and spanning his left cheek. Every night it witnessed Logan gingerly taking the make-up off, kissing the same cheek as they told Janus how dashing he looked.

But perhaps the thing the mirror saw most often was Logan. As someone who often got home before their husband on workdays, Logan usually had the apartment to themself for a couple of hours. The hours never went to waste as Logan usually spent it grading papers, preparing study guides, cleaning up, or even cooking a small meal; singing along to a blaring stereo as they got the day’s tasks done.

With Janus around, their bedroom was a safe space, a source of comfort, a haven of security. Alone, Logan thought otherwise. Often when alone, they worked in the living room, typing or scribbling away with a cup of coffee and a snack, seated far from their shared bedroom. However, there would be times when the fit of their shirt against their skin gnawed at Logan. Days where a phone image of themself or the creaking of their chair mocked them, unwelcome thoughts nibbling at their brain. 

Bitter reminders and temptations like such are everywhere. It is in the school bathroom’s mirror during their break. It’s in the slightly reflective surface of their phone, a puddle on the way home, their faded reflection in the subway doors and the not-so-subtle glances from the people around them.

Sometimes it only took a single unwarranted comment, a split-second glance at their thighs compared to the person beside them, before the figurative stoppers in their head gave way to the unpleasant voices. The voices seemed omniscient, knowing and pointing out every tiny detail about Logan it saw, whispering negatively amplified but obvious facts about their body.

Under the voices’ whim, they could not resist taking just one look at the mirror.

Today is one such day. Logan finds themself in a familiar spot, standing in front of a full-sized mirror bare-footed. They’re still in the same dark-blue polo they wore to work and black slacks that fit a bit snugly around their thighs yet loose around their ankles. They stare at their face, fingers coming up to prod and drag at the softness and roundness of their cheeks. Their brows involuntarily furrow as their hand travels down to their polo-covered chest. They watch as the fabric creases, stretches, and folds where they pinch the fat underneath. 

Their eyes linger at their thighs, hand messily tracing the fabric of the stretched slacks where the stretch marks would be. They know the position of each one by heart, hand squeezing at the tender flesh there, the unwanted voices laughing at how they look. They cross their arms with a frustrated huff, hating the way their upper and forearms bulge, the sleeve of the polo pulling flush against their skin.

Logan stares at their reflection with a strong surge of distaste and dysmorphic sensations filling them up. Their face scrunches up as the disgust and hatred overwhelm them, hands unconsciously squeezing tighter and tighter around themself as they look on longer and longer. The shape of their chubby fingers make dips in the flesh, annoying and infuriating but still there.

It’s tiring and frustrating, they think. It’s a never-ending cycle of seeing the fridge, the cabinets, the scale, and the mirror as both enemies and friends. Logan is not dumb. They are quite intelligent, in fact. They know what society tries to say through the white and perfect ads on TV, the models on billboards and magazines, the products on shopping channels and grocery stores, and the sizes of clothing in the stores.

Logan knows they’re fat. Tells themself every single day. But it seems unfair that society has to rub it in their face every single time, as if their own brain isn’t enough. 

They don’t know how long they remain there with their hands frustratedly poking and pinching at their most-hated, softest spots. Apparently it’s long enough for Logan not to hear someone calling out “I’m home!”. It’s long enough that they don’t hear the footsteps coming up the stairs nor the door to the room swinging open. 

They’re engrossed enough that they jump at the feeling of a hand on their back. Logan blinks at their reflection, surprised and confused to see (and feel) their husband behind them, chin perched on Logan’s shoulder and arms coming around their waist from behind.

Janus smiles, albeit weakly, but it still holds the same familiarity Logan knew. “I was wondering why your laptop was left open on the dining table.” Janus presses a kiss to their temple. “Also, the door was open.”

Logan looks down at Jan’s interlocked fingers resting lightly on their stomach and internally scowls at how Janus has to reach like that just to show them such a basic display of affection. “Hadn’t noticed, sorry.” They kiss Janus back on the cheek, still locked in a daze. “Why are you home early?” 

Janus frowns. “I’m not. It’s past seven, liebling. I’m supposed to be home.” The frown deepens at Logan’s lack of a reply.

The two stay that way for a while, Jan’s taller frame slouching to keep his head crooked between Logan’s neck and shoulders while Logan continues to stare accusingly at the mirror.

“It looks like you and your reflection are in a pretty heated argument there,” he comments, watching as Logan pries their gaze away from the blasted thing. 

Logan’s hand comes down to squeeze Janus’s fingers. “You could say that, yes.”

Janus sighs and untangles himself from Logan, turning them to face him. “Logan--”

“I know, I know. I’m perfect just the way I am and I should love and accept myself, yada-yada and all that same speech regarding how I should disregard what society thinks. But it doesn’t change the facts, does it?” They look down, staring at their outline to avoid meeting Janus’s eyes. “I’m still fat. And sometimes it’s just… difficult, Janus. It’s not easy to accept myself when the rest of the world won’t.”

They hear Jan breathe out audibly before they see him move to get something out of a drawer. He returns with a few wet wipes and begins taking off the concealer on his face. Logan makes a move to help him with the task out of instinct but Janus lightheartedly and stubbornly evades them, removing it completely until his scar is fully visible. 

Janus turns to them. “So? How do I look?”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Is that even an inquiry? Of course you look wonderful, Janus. I’ve told you many times before how objectively and subjectively gorgeous you are, scar or no scar--”

“Then allow me to return the favor.”

Logan stops at the statement, gaping as they think of what Janus means. There’s no warning before they’re being gently led to sit on the bed. Janus remains standing, a smug smile still planted firmly on his face, before he’s leaning down to place a kiss on Logan’s cheek.

“I am undeniably in love with your beautiful, round cheeks. It’s like kissing a marshmallow--”

“Aren’t those your favorite?”

A cheeky grin. “Exactly.” Logan blushes at the statement, wordlessly staying still as Jan plants another tender kiss onto their shoulder.

“Love your shoulders too,” Janus begins, his hand coming around to feel the softness of Logan’s back, fingers tracing every dark and light spot or mark on it. “And your back. It reminds me of the galaxy, hundreds of stars dotting the expanses of it. Like I have my own little universe.”

Logan is rigidly still at the sentence, the words warming up their cheeks and chest. Then Janus pulls away a bit and lays a finger on the top button of Logan’s polo, eyes silently asking permission. “May I?”

“Janus, you really don’t have to--” They’re broken off by a kiss to their lips, quick but filled with all the serenity of the moment. 

“Trust me,” Janus whispers, and Logan nods.

He unbuttons the shirt slowly, and Logan cannot bring it upon themself to look down, afraid of seeing their own flesh in its familiar, revolting form. Janus keeps the top on, opening it up just wide enough for him to expose his husband’s torso. Logan tenses as Janus holds their hand and rests his ear against Logan’s chest, right where their heart is. “I’ve always loved doing this. Just laying on your cushion-y chest like this, letting myself get hypnotized by the steady beating of your heart. You lecture your students about this don’t you? About the cardiac rhythm? The circulatory system?”

“Yes, I do.”

“But have you ever tried listening to your own?”

“Well, no--”

Janus pulls away to stare into Logan’s eyes. “You should. It’s the loveliest piece of music I’ve heard in my entire life.”

Logan feels butterflies in their chest; which is illogical since butterflies cannot survive being inside a stomach, nor is there any logical reason for them to be there in the first place. But they feel it nonetheless. 

Yet the butterflies stop their flight once Janus trails down to lightly rub his nose against the curves on Logan’s belly. His hands tenderly trace each roll and line as he leaves a small splattering of kisses all over it. Logan holds their breath, a force of habit, as they try to identify the conflicting feelings building up inside them. Janus looks up, squeezes their hand tighter, and smiles. “Breathe, love. It’s okay.”

And Logan does, wincing at how their stomach seems to extend further at their exhale. But Janus only shushes them with a single smack to their nose, telling them how beautiful, how handsome they are in sweet little whispers. The words dance around Logan, pricking slight tears in their eyes as they dig for any sign of ingenuity in their husband. They find none.

Janus dares to trail down even further, a playful smirk plastering on his face as he stops short of the waistband of Logan’s jeans. Janus shoots them a look and Logan playfully pushes his head away with a laugh, their husband chuckling along with them.

“Kidding, kidding. Unless--”

“Janus!”

The room fills with lighthearted laughter as Logan’s face becomes dusted with pink. “Okay, okay. Maybe later then.” He winks at the end of his sentence, staring in amusement at how Logan’s cheeks bloom to a full red.

Janus quickly stands up with a smile, offering his hand. Logan takes it and allows themself to be pulled up. He holds Logan’s hand lightly and gently in one and guides their other to stay on his shoulder while his remaining hand finds a place on Logan’s waist. There is no music, but Janus still leads Logan into a slow dance, two forms swaying in front of the same mirror. Logan keeps their eyes on Janus and he turns them both so that Logan can see their bodies in the reflection, painting a beautiful image despite the uncertainties still in their head.

“See how your hand fits perfectly in mine?” Janus asks, voice low. 

“Yes I do, Janus. I perfectly have the capability to see, after all, and nothing is there to obstruct my view of it,” Logan replies, mouth twitching at the corner as Janus narrows his eyes at them. But Janus only takes Logan’s hand up to place one more kiss to the back of their palm, the fondness in Jan’s eyes seeping into Logan’s chest.

He twirls Logan slowly, their still unbuttoned top flowing along the direction of the spin.

“When and where did you learn to become this sentimental, Janus? I must say, this is a new look on you,” they remark, falling back into Janus’s arms after they’re spun.

They get back into their slow rhythm, gently moving to an imaginary tune. “Oh believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are. So you have to promise me that this will never see the light of day.” 

Logan huffs out a breath through a slight smirk. “Why go through all this trouble, then?”

Janus smiles back, leaning forward just a bit more closer. “Because it’s true, and you’re worth it.”

“This is coming from the man who insists on just how detrimental lies and fabrications are in society--”

Janus cuts him off with a low chuckle reverberating off a smile. “Well, just this once I’m inclined to find comfort in the truth. And the truth is, liebling, you’re  _ beautiful. _ ” Janus turns Logan to allow them to face the mirror, Janus standing behind them, mirroring their position at the beginning of their little talk. 

“All of this, everything. Every single thing about you that you’re looking at right now is a work of art, Logan. Every fold, mark, scar, stretch mark, cellulite, curve--” Janus places another kiss to their hair, eyes closed for the quickest second before he opens them again to finish. “-- is absolutely, undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.”

“But--”

“I know, Logan. The world begs to differ, I know. But the world is unfair. It’s unfair to you just because you choose not to step into its neat little boxes of ‘male’ and ‘female.’ It’s unfair to you for simply being who you are. It’s unfair to you for dictating what exactly should be the definition of aesthetics and beauty. It’s a putrid little place which assigns everything outside of it as ‘ugly’ just because it refuses to see the ugliness of itself.”

In the mirror, Janus’s serious features grow softer as a single tear rolls down from Logan’s eye. Janus turns them around again, palm resting on their cheek and thumb wiping away the moisture on their face.

“But I’m here, Logan. I understand that you don’t exactly fit into any of those boxes. I understand that you’re your own person. I understand how much bullshit you hear from the world everyday and how much you despise it.”

Janus rests a kiss on their forehead, warm and lingering as more tears spill over from Logan’s eyes. “I love you so goddamn much, Logan. Even if the world doesn’t accept you, I do. Even when you think it deems you ugly, I still honestly believe that you’re the most beautiful thing in it.”

A sob spills from Logan’s lips, and Janus moves to close the distance between them and hug his husband, arms locking around each other in a warm, tight embrace, all emotion spilling and exchanging between the two.

“If the world won’t love you, I will. I have and I always will, liebling.”

Logan stays there, their head pressed against Janus’s chest, trying and failing to contain the icky but welcome emotions washing over them. Janus keeps them close, long fingers gently patting the wavy hair at the back of Logan’s head with his arm strong and steady around them.

“I love you too,” Logan says later, feeling as though a new world was just right there in front of them, whispering nothings in their ear as he peppers their head in soft kisses.

And maybe that was all the world they needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you're all doing dandy you lovely, valid, creatures. Every little support and kudos is eternally appreciated. Pay me a visit on Tumblr [@nerdy-emo-royal-dad](https://nerdy-emo-royal-dad.tumblr.com/)! Stay hydrated and safe!! <3


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